


Obsolete

by jujubiest



Series: PoI Ficlets [9]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: 40 Tropes Story Meme, Accidental Hand Hold, M/M, Request Fill, TV Tropes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:29:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the 40 Tropes Story Meme on tumblr: Pick a TV Trope and a ship. Talkingtothesky requested Rinch + Accidental Hand Hold. So...this was supposed to be fluffy but vague angst happened? Oops?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obsolete

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkingtothesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/gifts).



> Set shortly after "Bad Code." Un-beta'd.

It’s disconcerting, when he gets back, to see how easily Reese has made use of the Machine’s minor bit of intel to find him and help other numbers at the same time. Not that he isn't incredibly grateful, it’s just…

Little things. Like arriving at the library to find Reese already in his chair, working. He had jumped up, looking apologetic and even a little guilty, the moment he saw Finch, but it was clear what he was doing: Finch’s job.

Then there are the times—only twice, but that’s twice in the less than a week he’s been back—when he and Reese were crowded in at the computer, shoulder to shoulder, and they both reached for the mouse at the same time. Reese drew his hand back immediately, looking sheepish. But these things have stuck with Finch, despite his best efforts to tell himself they don’t matter, they don’t mean what he’s afraid they might.

It shouldn’t bother him, the way Reese has clearly gotten used to doing his job in such a short time. It’s what he hoped for, he tells himself. What he intended, depended on, even: that if something happened to him, Reese would be willing and able to take up the cause alone.

Willing is an open question, but able? It couldn’t be clearer to Finch that Reese could do this without him if he wanted to. And it’s just ridiculous that he allows that to hurt, to slip inside and make him feel like he’s becoming obsolete. He’s never considered himself someone who needs to be needed, but he needs it now. Or, at least he needs to know that he’s good for something. That he’s not useless, not helpless, not—

“Harold?”

Finch jerks at the sound of Reese’s voice so close by, blinking himself back to the present and looking up from the spine of the book he’s been studying for much longer than natural or necessary. Reese looks down at him, concerned, and Finch rushes to answer with something normal, something that will reassure him. Because he still doesn't want—doesn't _need,_ he corrects himself sternly—to talk about it.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Reese. I was…lost in thought. Were you saying something?”

“Just checking in, Finch. If you don’t want to talk that’s fine. As long as you’re okay.”

He looks and sounds so _worried,_ and Finch is appalled to find that part of him does want to talk about it, whether he needs to or not. Or maybe it’s the other way around.

But he doesn’t want to give Reese another reason to worry. It’s clear as day to both of them, he’s sure, that Reese can do this without him. He doesn't want to give the man a reason to think he’d be better off that way.

“If I find myself incapable of continuing our work, Mr. Reese, I will let you know,” he says, perhaps sharper and with a bit more emphasis on _our_ than he intended. He turns sharply away from Reese, reaching for the second book the numbers indicated.

The same book Reese had reached for. Finch’s hand gets their first, but only just. Their hands meet and close over the spine at nearly the same time, Reese’s on top of Finch’s.

Finch starts to pull his hand back, but Reese is having none of it. He relinquishes the book in favor of clasping Finch’s hand in his, and fixing Finch with a pointed gaze.

“I told your Machine, Finch, and I’ll tell you the same thing,” he says seriously. “I won’t do this without you. I can’t.”

He offers one of his small, quick smiles and then releases Finch’s hand, stepping away and leaving Finch to retrieve the last two books. Finch pulls them both out, but hangs back for a few moments. His hand feels warm, and his fears somewhat abated.


End file.
